


The Lazarus Man

by Kaliedoscopetta



Category: Heroes - Fandom, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-21 05:27:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1539344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaliedoscopetta/pseuds/Kaliedoscopetta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A/U</p>
<p>Jim Moriarty is back from the dead, and Mycroft Holmes realizes he needs a new breed of "hero" to take down this threat once and for all. But Mycroft gets more than he bargained for when he meets Sylar - an enigmatic antihero who's the perfect weapon, the perfect combination of beautiful and lethal...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Collar and Cornered

_An Introduction_

 

Mycroft Holmes looked down at the haggard man seated before him, frowning. 

  
"Mr. Rains, perhaps I have not made myself clear. In exchange for your services, the British government is prepared to offer you a full pardon." He open the file folder in his hands and flipped through it, which was quite the feat given how thick it was. "Considering the nature and number of your crimes, I would think a man in your position would jump on our generous proposition."  
  
Claude Rains attempted to loosen his collar again, a frown marring his brow when once again he couldn't. The metal chafed him, Mycroft could tell, but it was the light pulse of electric currents running through it that no doubt bothered Rains most. Such precautions needed to be taken around a man like Rains, someone so 'gifted.'  
  
 _Gifted_ , Mycroft internally scoffed. _More like cursed._ _Even the most moral of men would not be able to resist the temptations that came with turning invisible. And Rains was hardly moral, even before his 'power' manifested._  
  
But, unfortunately, sometimes the government needed the services of a rogue like Rains. Mycroft's own younger brother, Sherlock, was far from laudable; and if Sherlock wasn't already working on a case outside of the country, Mycroft would have called him in, even if just to help him with Rains. Thus far, Mycroft had Rains in his custody, collared and cornered, for over 24 hours and Rains hardly spoke more than two words. His two words exactly thus far: "piss off."  
  
"I will not release you until I get what I want, so why not make things easier for yourself and accept?" Mycroft motioned to the collar. "That must be dreadfully uncomfortable."  
  
Rains looked up, his eyes meeting those of Mycroft. And he spoke, "Will you take this damned thing off if I do?" When Mycroft raised an eyebrow, Rains smirked, the smile not reaching his eyes. "Thought so."  
  
"I can assure you that if you do not help us, you will never be free from that collar. I will have you locked away, never to see the light of day again, to your very last day. Would you prefer that option? Or would you like to take a chance and earn your freedom?"  
  
"So you will release me? From this thing?"  
  
"Eventually, yes. But first you must agree to this mission, and you must succeed. A new brand of villainy calls for a new brand of weaponery, and you must be ours, Mr. Rains."  
  
"I'd be useless to you without my power, hardly a weapon - more like cannon fodder. And you know it. Your trying to send me on a suicide mission hardly rouses my love of queen and country."  
  
"Come now, you will not be on your own. Our intelligence reports that you have two companions, a Miss Drenwick of 1020 Northumberland Street and an american. Surely their abilities will be useful in completing this mission." Rains's eyes widened at the mention of his friends; Mycroft smiled and continued, "Your companions must be worried about you, particularly the lovely Miss Drenwick. Think of their safety; if this threat is allowed to continue, their lives will be in jeopardy as much as any citizen of this great nation. If you will not do it for your queen and country, do it for them."  
  
Mycroft knew he had Rains, and he continued to smile as defeat registered on Rains's face. Now Rains knew it, too.  
  



	2. Of Allies and Enemies

"He's taking too long."  
  
Sylar looked up at his companion and simply said, "He'll be here."  
  
Alison shot him a dirty look but kept her mouth shut; she resumed pacing around the sitting room of the flat, ignoring Sylar's presence. Not that he minded. He turned his attention back to his book, Moby Dick, and resumed reading.  
  
Time passed, Alison paused now and then in her pacing, and Sylar finished his book. Alison looked like she wanted to say something to him again when they both heard footsteps drawing closer to the front door. Sylar felt relief when the door open and Claude entered the flat. Too much relief, Sylar realized. Alison was projecting her emotions, probably without realizing; her pleasure at seeing her lover again was palpable. Sylar watched as Alison flung herself into Claude's open arms, and he pushed backed a feeling of longing, one that was solely his. He admired the intimacy between the two; but there was no time or room for that kind of love in his life, not now and maybe not ever.  
  
Clearing his throat, Sylar said, "I'd hate to kill the mood, but what the hell happened to you?"  
  
Claude gave Alison one last quick kiss on her lips and pulled back from her, moving aside so he could see Sylar. "No hug and kiss for me? Did you not miss me?"  
  
Sylar rolled his eyes and repeated his question. He was pleased to see Alison shoot an exasperated look at Claude, too.  
  
He hesitated for a few moments, avoiding both Sylar and Alison's eyes as he glanced around the flat, but finally he responded, "I need to show you something first."  
  
Claude pulled down the collar of his turtleneck, revealing a slim metal collar. Alison gasped and Sylar stepped forward, his hand outstretched. He wasn't sure he wanted to touch it, if the chilling look in Claude's eyes was any indication. "What is that? Who did that to you?"  
  
"A government man. Well, I should say, THE government man." Claude plopped down on the couch, pulling Alison to sit beside him. Sylar took the hint and settled in the chair opposite them. "This collar emits a low dose of electric pulses, not enough to do any major damage, just enough to stop me from using my ability."  
  
"Okay, so how do we get it off you?" Alison asked. "Sylar?"  
  
Before Sylar could respond, Claude cut in, "Even if he could, I don't want him to. It'll only lead to more trouble, I suspect."  
  
"Why? What did this person want from you? Why would he do this to you?"  
  
"Because people fear anything that's different," Sylar commented, a twinge of bitterness in his voice.  
  
"Not this fella, wasn't scared of me one bit even before his men collared me." Claude shook his head. "He wants us to help him."  
  
"And you agreed?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Sylar frowned. "To what exactly?"  
  
"To capture a dangerous criminal, of course."  
  
"More dangerous than us?"  
  
Alison let out a nervous laugh. "I don't think that's possible."  
  
"Anything's possible, Ali. You know that," Sylar replied. He turned to Claude. "Although I am curious to know who'd be powerful enough to scare the government into asking for our help."  
  
"James Moriarty."  
  
Alison's face paled, her eyes wild. "James Moriarty's dead. It's been over two years since his suicide."  
  
Sylar squashed the anxiety that crept up his neck, his fingers digging into the arm of the chair. "Alison," he grated out through grit teeth. He relaxed considerably as Alison reigned in her power and the fear no longer had hold of him. After sighing in relief, Sylar looked back and forth between Alison and Claude, who was now stroking her hands in a comforting gesture. "Who's James Moriarty?"  
  
Claude patted Alison on the knee before leaning forward. When his eyes met Sylar's, the other man nearly flinched at the raw terror in them. "James Moriarty is a psychopath and criminal mastermind who, up until three days ago, was presumed dead. As Ali said, two years ago he committed suicide. Shot himself in the damn head." Claude raised his hand to stop Sylar when it looked like the other man would interrupt. "The circumstances surrounding his apparent death and resurrection are muddy, least as far as they'd tell me. Their theory is that he had employed a double and has been in hiding abroad, but they've no evidence whatsoever to support it."  
  
Sylar frowned as his intuitive powers kicked in, ticking and clicking pieces of Claude's story together. "That's not their only theory, is it," he phrased it as more of a statement than question, but Claude nodded anyways.  
  
Alison looked from one man to the other, confused. Her voice wavered when she asked, "What? What is it?"  
  
"Alison," Sylar grated out, his own voice strained as he fought back the panic that he knew Alison was projecting onto him. When the feeling was lifted, he said, "This James Moriarty could be one of us. He may be able to regenerate like I can."  
  
"Another healer? But it's rare to find another one of those, right?"  
  
Sylar didn't answer. Claude shot him look before turning to Alison, taking one of her hands in his. "There was another, who Sylar and I both met years ago. She was a nice girl, all things considered." He ignored Sylar's snicker and continued, "I'm not certain how rare any ability is nowadays, what with more of our kind popping up."  
  
"But wouldn't the government have known about his power before? They incarcerated him and you know they didn't just keep him locked up in a cell all that time. They had to have questioned him, interrogated him, hell maybe they even ran tests on him because he was a fucking psycho."  
  
"Most people's powers don't develop until there's a catalyst, to jumpstart it." Claude shrugged. "Maybe his death coincided with an eclipse or blood moon, I don't know. Or maybe it was always there and he hid it well. The man was crazed but brilliant, he'd been hiding in plain sight for years before the government caught on to him." He paused and shook his head. "It's all immaterial, really. The government can't stop him alone regardless, and that's why they need us."  
  
"How do they expect us to do that if we're collared?" He gestured to Claude's neck. "Without our powers, we're useless."  
  
"You won't be collared, just me I think."  
  
"You think?"  
  
"Holmes said they had no intention of hurting either of you. He assured me my collar will be removed once this is over."  
  
"And you believed him?" Sylar scoffed.  
  
"Course not," Claude replied with a smile. "But I've got no choice. If I misbehave, it'll definitely come back to bite us in our arses. Cooperate, there's a chance you'll be left alone."  
  
A thought occurred to Sylar. "So are we supposed to capture this Moriarty or kill him?"  
  
"He didn't say."  
  
"Dead, then."  
  
"Not necessarily," Alison interjected nervously.  
  
Sylar shot her a look. "Even if he isn't one of us, he's clearly too dangerous to be kept alive."  
  
"I've never killed anyone before." Her voice sounded small as she settled back into the sofa, a lost look on her face. Sylar and Claude exchanged a knowing look; they had…


End file.
